Here I am, sitting at home without Maxx. Sigh, but he needs to get serviced. So, while I am stationary at home, I'll get my post done early today (though really, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, by this time, I'm already done with my first class and started my second....both in Pocatello). Last week's edition of the Rebellious Spy had main characters meet and a grand revelation made. Martin's lucky charm is actually a Connection. Now we're reaching the main problem. Martin doesn't want to connect the dots.
************
Martin felt as if he had been punched in the gut and the air forced from his lungs when the queen had said it. His mind was numb by those four words. What did this mean? He was afraid of the answers.
“Son?” Sara asked, the first of them to recover. “What son? I’m an only child.”
“No, you’re not,” the queen replied, looking up. Martin was shocked to see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “You were never told about your brother. He was kidnapped before you were born. We thought he was dead.”
“For good reason,” Suit blurted. The Spy Master had the same shocked face as himself. “The pirates who took your son died at sea, every last person on that boat was killed before they made port. You searched for him yourself with that Connection of yours. Jonathan too!”
“We can only feel other Santers if they have their Connection,” Queen Abigail explained. She held the glove tight in her hands and brought it up to her chest. “This glove disappeared the same time as Henry. We thought he was dead because this was also gone. There are only enough Connections for the living Santers. Dead Santers don’t have these. If Henry really was dead, this glove wouldn’t exist.”
“Then that means…” Suit started to put together.
“The Crown Prince of Aeterna is still alive,” Abigail finished, laughing though tears continued to stream down her cheeks. “We have to find him.”
“No arguments there.” The Spy Master sat back in his chair, rubbing his goatee. “We need to plan this carefully. If Terk gets wind of the prince being alive before we have him back safely in our hands… Robby!”
“Yes, sir?” the secretary asked, opening the door and peeking around it.
“Send someone to Ida to get a room ready for her Highness,” Suit ordered. “Also, send for Sona. We’re going to be needing her talents.”
“I’ll send the messengers.” Robby closed the door.
“I’d advise that none of this goes past that door.” Suit locked his fingers together and tapped his chin. “We don’t know enough to reveal anything about the prince, so secrecy at this point might keep him alive.”
“But,” Sara started to protest, rising in her chair to stand.
“No buts,” Abigail said firmly. “Suit’s right. Your brother’s life may depend on this.”
“Brother.” The princess rubbed her temple as she sat back down, her face a mixture of confusion and pain. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Can I be excused?” Martin cut in. He felt very uncomfortable; not only because of the tension building between the queen and princess, but also of the cause of the tension. He wanted to cringe at the thought that his lucky charm belonged to the Santers.
“Do you have any place you really need to go?” Suit asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who brought the Inhibitor and glove back. Aren’t you the least bit curious about it? I know you were before.”
“So were you,” he thought bitterly. “But you’re not the one who has been having nightmares where your reflection doesn’t match your face.” The association between his dreams and the missing prince was not something he wanted to consider.
“This is a family affair.” He tried not to squirm in his chair as the queen focused her firm gray eyes on him. “It’s not really my place to be in it.”
Suit frowned thoughtfully. “You’re probably right. I know how uncomfortable you get around family affairs. Very well, you’re excused. Take the princess with you.”
“What?” The princess stood up, her face enraged. “But I have questions! I deserve some sort of answers, especially after being lied to all my life!”
“If you’re going to stay here,” Suit growled, slowly standing up to enforce his imposing presence, “then you’re going to have to learn to obey commands. I promise that you’ll get your answers, but not now. Especially if you’re not going to follow my orders. There are things we have to consider before we take any steps about your brother, and some of those things are not appropriate to you. Now, Your Highness, you will leave. Martin, get her out of here.”
Martin cringed at the lecture. Suit rarely gave ultimatums, he expected to be obeyed and people did. However, when he did give them, someone usual left crying. Sara’s eyes filled with angry tears before she run from the room. He followed after, frowning. An upset teenage princess was not something he wanted to deal with at the moment.
“Remember, Martin,” Suit called after him, “not a word out about this.”
“Yes, sir.” He did not even want to think about the conversation, little alone talk about it. He closed the door and found the princess had already left the office.
“Any idea where she went?” he asked as he passed Robby’s desk.
“Try going left,” Robby suggested, frowning. “What happened in there?”
“Orders of Silence,” he explained, walking out. “Sorry.”
Glancing left, he saw Princess Sara waiting for him, leaning against the wall fuming. She glared at him. “Well?” she demanded, pushing off the wall. “What do you think of all this?”
Martin raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking my opinion?” He turned and walked towards the living corridors. Behind him, he heard the princess gasp in shock that he had turned away from her. Sure she was seething, she followed after him.
“You’re Suit’s apprentice,” she pointed out as she caught up with him. “You wouldn’t have gotten that position if you didn’t have his respect in some way.”
“I haven’t earned all of that respect yet,” he snorted. “Now, Your Highness, we’ve been ordered to silence. Let’s keep it that way and talk about something else.”
“You’re taking their side!” she accused. She stopped and pointed a finger at him. “You’re like all those other adults! Trying to rule my life! My own parents lied to me!”
“At least you have parents,” he snapped back as she took a breath. She looked shocked that he interrupted her. “Some of us aren’t so lucky. Let’s get going. I have other things to do.” He turned his back to her so she would not see his own frustrated face.
************
Martin was glad to finally rid himself of the willful princess when they reached the living wing of the Tree. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when Ida Falend took over of settling in the Santer. Instead of going back to his friends, he made his way back to his room. When he got there, he locked the door behind him and thudded his head against the wood.
“What’s happening?” he groaned. With a tired sigh, he turned around, leaned against the door, and glanced around the room.
His room was just large enough to fit his bed and dresser. That was just fine with him; he never owned much and did not want to. A street urchin learned to not form attachments to anything, either people or things. He had never gotten over that.
With another sigh, he took the one step to his bed and flopped on it. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, confused. Confused about his former lucky charm, confused about the power he felt that day the Inhibitor touched it, confused about the dreams that had plagued him since.
“What could those dreams mean? Is there a connection between them and the prince?” He refused to ask if it meant the impossible.
“I’m an orphan,” he firmly told himself, narrowing his eyes. He had come to terms with it, even been proud of it. He had earned his way through life without needing any parent to vouch for him. No one could say he just breezed through life. He worked for everything he owned and the respect he deserved. Nothing would ever change that.
“Then why am I troubled?” So what if the prince was alive? It could not affect him or his job. The only thing he could think of it changing his life was if the prince ever ordered more missions for Suit to fill.
“No use worrying about it. It doesn’t concern me.” And the dreams? What meaning did they have? “Probably just my imagination. I’ve had nightmares before.” Trying to convince himself of that, he fitfully fell asleep.
********
He was before the mirror again, looking at the strange young man that he didn’t know. This time the man seemed calmer and less troubled. He folded his arms across his slim form.
“So,” the image said, smirking. “What did you think?”
Martin gritting his teeth in frustration. Why was he here? “Think of what?” he rebutted. “A prince is alive. So what? It has nothing to do with me.”
“It doesn’t?” the image asked, chuckling softly. “Then why didn’t you tell the queen that the glove was yours?”
“That glove isn’t mine,” Martin snapped. “I picked it up somewhere.”
“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Where?”
“I don’t know,” the spy growled, annoyed. “You seem to know the answers. Where did I pick it up?”
“You didn’t,” the image answered. “It was yours since birth. Congratulations. You’re the Crown Prince of Aeterna.”
“I am not,” Martin snapped. “There is no proof. I don’t even know if I’m Aeternan.”
“Why do you keep fighting yourself?” the image asked, frowning. “You are the prince. The faster you learn this, the better off you’ll be.”
“Right,” Martin said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Let’s assume for one moment that I am the prince. Why, out of curiosity, did it take sixteen years for someone to notice?”
“Don’t ask me that,” the image snorted. “I don’t know.”
“Exactly,” Martin pointed out. “If I were the prince, someone long ago would have told me so. I’m eighteen. Legally an adult. I’ve been raised as a spy. I don’t even look like a Santer. There is no connection between me and the royal family.”
“You’re sure?” the image asked.
“Yes,” the spy snapped. “You know what; I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you. I’m not the prince. Case closed.” Martin turned to go.
“But it’s not closed, Martin Santer,” the image said softly, causing the spy to freeze on the spot. He turned slowly on the spot, staring shocked at the mirror-man.
“You’re unsure yourself” The man stared back with icy eyes. “There have been clues for years now, clues that you are indeed the prince. How you just appeared in Loman with no name, no history, and no parents. When you were growing up, didn’t you always feel different? That you were supposed to be something more? You had those visions, flashes of the thoughts of others. You could always tell when something big would happen. Also, why, after all these years, did the glove stay hidden, only to be found by one who would recognize it for what it is?
“Stop fighting yourself,” the image continued. “You are the prince. Yes, there are questions left unanswered, but that is irrelevant to the fact. The faster you admit who you are, the better off you’ll be.”
************
Martin woke up with a gasp and drenched in sweat. He sat up and quickly scanned his bare room. Nothing was out of place. Leaning forward, the spy rested his head in his hands, breathing hard.
“I can’t be the prince,” he whispered into the dark. “Or am I?”
************
Sara opened her door just wide enough to poke her head through. Glancing down one end of the corridor then the other, she was satisfied to see no one. Taking a deep breath, she slipped away from her small room. It was just big enough for a bed and dresser. Ida had said she was privileged to get those accommodations! Apparently, most spies didn’t have rooms to themselves. Only a few talented did. She shook her head at the thought. She had trouble sleeping the night before, feeling as if the walls were closing in on her. How could anyone see living in a closet as luxury?
But that question had to be left for another day. Today, she was going to learn the truth! Taking purposeful strides, she made her way to Suit’s office, sure that her mother and Spy Master would be there. They had to give her answers now! They had lied, everyone had lied to her. As a princess, she should at least had been told of the true heir.
“But more than that,” she thought bitterly to herself. “I deserve to know about my brother. Even if he had died.”
She reached the office. Steeling herself, she banged the door open, startling the sour secretary. “I demand to enter Suit’s office.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound shrilly.
“Of course, Your Highness,” Robby said as he stood and bowed. He straitened with a frown. “Though I don’t know why you’d want to. Neither your mother or Suit is here.”
Sara felt the embarrassment color her cheeks. “No! I must be commanding. Not a silly little girl!”
“Then tell me where they are,” she said quickly, hoping she was doing a good job of disguising her blunder. “There are things I need to discuss with them.”
“Her Majesty had thought as much,” Robby said smoothly. Sara could tell he was trying hard not to smile. She blushed again. “They said you are more than welcome to wait here for them. If not, your mother suggested that you go to the weapons field.”
“Because that’s where they are?”
“No. But there will be someone there who will answer your questions.”
Sara frowned. She wanted her answers from her mother’s own mouth, not from some stranger. “But I want to know now.” For a moment, she struggled with the two desires. “Alright,” she finally decided. “Tell me how to get to the weapons field and who’ll be waiting for me.”
“Go right when you leave,” Robby immediately answered, “then down two flights of stairs. Take your first left and it’s down that hall. The person waiting has already been told to answer your questions when you get there.”
“Thank you.” Without waiting for him to bow again, she left. Only once she was down one set of stairs did she realize she did not get a name. But she refused to go back up to the insufferable secretary and his too late answers. “Really,” she huffed. “Mother knows I have questions. Why isn’t she somewhere I can find her?” She admitted to herself that it was probably because she was still in a temper.
“I’m not the only one affected by this news. Mother was obviously overjoyed at learning my brother was alive.” She knew she was one of the few people who could anger the queen. That anger was something she could live without at the moment.
Reaching the bottom of the second set of stairs, she glanced down the left hall and the opened door at the end of it. As she approached, she was surprised to hear the clashes at the early hour. She had not even had breakfast yet. How long had these people been awake to already be exercising?
She paused when she walked into the large room. The sight was overwhelming; she saw several groups practicing different types of weapons. The heat of working bodies made the room warmer than outside in the hall. She shook her head. How was anyone supposed to find anyone in this mess?
“Maybe that’s why Mother suggested I come here. I’ll get distracted and no one will be able find me.” She wished her mother did not know her so well.
She kept close to the wall as she watched the people work in the middle. She was surprised to see how many of them were as young as she was. She shook slightly to see a group of kids younger than her. The only adults in the room were the ones teaching the younger generation.
She made it to the far corner when she saw a familiar face among the teachers. Martin was with one of the older groups; from their lack of weapons, she guessed they were learning fist fighting. She stopped at the corner and watched for a few minutes. She was surprised to see Martin correcting the students in their postures.
“He’s a pleasure to watch, isn’t he?”
Sara spun around. Behind her was a pretty young woman about the same age as Martin. She wore her brown hair loose around her soft featured face. Her cool green eyes were amused as she glanced at the princess’s choice of clothes. Sara felt herself grow angry at the stranger’s sanction. She was the princess; she was entitled to dress how she felt. Though in the hot room, she wished she had picked the same sort of light cotton dress the young woman wore instead of the layers she had on.
“And who are you?” she snapped. No doubt this pretty face was accompanied by an empty head.
“My name is Sona Merette, Your Highness.” She smirked. “I was told you’d be grumpy. Understandable, all things considering.”
Sara paused. This woman’s tone and words spoke of an educated mind, and possibly a quick wit as well. Then she finally registered what she said.
“You’re the one who’s going to give me some answers?”
“It only makes sense that I’m the one giving answers,” Sona replied, smiling smugly. “I’m going to be the one to find him.”
“Find him?”
Sona laughed. “Yes, find him. I’m a research spy; I delve into books to uncover mysteries, I find the small clues in reports that others dismiss, I make connections where others cannot. I can track any person given enough time.”
“How can you say that?” Sara demanded to know. “My brother has been missing for…” She stuttered, realizing she had no idea how long it had been.
“Sixteen years,” the pretty spy finished for her. “It’s been sixteen years since the pirate raid.”
The princess was about to ask about the raid when the instructor for Martin’s group erupted.
“Enough!” he snapped turning the heads of everyone in hearing distance. “You lazy kids! How can I show you something for two weeks and you still not get it? Martin!”
“Yes, sir?” the spy said, frowning.
“Clear a space, we’re going to show them how a real fight goes.” Martin quickly formed the students into a loose circle as the teacher took off his shirt, revealing an extremely muscular torso, and joined the young spy in the circle. Sara raised an eyebrow when the spy did not take his shirt off. Taking a more careful look, she noticed the sweat spots on his shirt. “Does he work out fully clothed?”
“Just use the simple techniques. Maybe it’ll show you kids just how important they are.” Suddenly, the teacher struck out at Martin. But the young man was ready with his own attack. Sara’s jaw dropped at the fight intensified. It was like watching a graceful dance, one that would do harm with a single wrong move.
“Huh,” Sona said, her expression thoughtful rather than amazed. “Martin’s pushing it a little.”
“Pushing it?” she asked, her eyes wide after he made a flawless move for the teacher’s neck which the master barely dodged. “He’s great!”
“That’s what he gets for growing up on the streets.” Sona shrugged. “But he’s still human. Something’s bothering him.”
“What could be bothering him?” she snapped. “He’s not the one who finds out he has a brother!” She hadn’t forgotten about her questions, despite the mock fight.
“We believe it was a pirate raid that killed his parents,” Sona explained. “Not the one at Nacre, but still a pirate raid. Martin tries to pretend he isn’t bothered about it, but it does. No doubt the discovery of your brother reminded him about what he doesn't have in his life. Just remember, Your Highness, you’re not the only one who suffers.”
Sara switched her gaze between the researcher’s sorrowful eyes and Martin’s fight. “That’s what he was telling me last night,” she realized with shock. “I must have sounded like an ungrateful brat to him.”
Sona must have seen something she did not. Martin must have overstepped and the instructor took advantage of it. Thrusting his hand onto Martin’s chest, he pushed the young man down. Martin fell hard on his back. Before he could sit up, the teacher was there, pinning him on the ground. Snorting, he let him back up.
“See?” he asked the students. “That’s what you get for being over confident.”
“Over confident,” Sona sorted. “Martin’s troubled.” That statement confused the princess until she noticed how the researcher gazed at him. It was an emotion she was surprised to see. “I guess even spies could be attracted to others.”
“But you didn’t come here to talk about Suit’s apprentice.” She quickly covered her interested look at the young man. “You want to know about your brother. Perhaps we should go someplace where we won’t be so distracted.” Stealing one final glance at Martin, Sona led her out of the weapons field. Sara followed thoughtfully.
“How many people died in the raid, the night my brother disappeared?” After learning about Martin’s parents, she began to wonder how many other people thought her spoiled because she did not understand.
“The total came to over two hundred dead, about three hundred injured, and two hundred fifty missing.”
“So many?” she asked, surprised. “But our navy…”
“Was still fighting the Venterians,” Sona explained. “Nacre was under little protection. At first, everyone believed the pirates just took advantage of the scarce defense.”
“It wasn’t?”
Sona shook her head. “No. A few months after the raid, our intelligence found that it was a set up. General Terk had struck a deal with the pirates to attack the moment he lost the war. Their aim was to kidnap the prince and hold him captive. However, while they were halfway to Venter to drop off Prince Henry, a Venterian ship sunk the pirates. Orders were that no one on the ship was to be left alive.”
“And everyone assumed my brother was on that ship,” Sara mused, frowning. “Why?”
“You understand the answer better than myself.” The pretty researcher shrugged, walking up the stairs. “It has something to do with that Connection.”
Sara idly fingered her bracelet. It was thicker than most. It had to. The magic infused in the bronze would have broken anything less.
“Not many people know about our Connections,” Sara whispered, feeling the intricate designs of her bracelet. “These were formed during the same time of the Seven Founders, when they created Aeterna. They managed to merge the very magic of the land and the people to our family. After the melding, the Founders realized the magic was too strong for anyone to handle so they created these focuses for us.
“We are called the Protectors of Aeterna because it’s our duty to make sure the magic the Seven Founders forged doesn't get out of control.”
Sona frowned. Reaching the top of the stairs, she turned to face the princess. “From what you’ve said, it almost sounds as if you believe that the Seven Founders made a horrible mistake melding the magics and that the Santer family is cursed to keep their mistake from destroying us.”
“That about sums it up,” Sara admitted. “Oh, yes, everyone else thinks the Founders are wonderful for bringing a nation together and forming ties in the land and people so it would never fall, but it has a price. This magic is powerful and someone needs to keep it in check. And my ancestors volunteered for the job.” She tugged at the Connection on her wrist.
“Not that these don’t have their perks. We have a general sense of how our people feel so when we make a judgment call for Aeternans, we’re confident it’s what they want. And also, we know where other Connections are, or at least a general sense of which direction they are if they’re far away. But that only works when the Connection is possessed by another Santer.”
“How many Connections are there?” Sona opened the door to Suit’s office. Sara was surprised to find themselves there in little time. Nodding to Robby, they entered the Spy Master’s office and sat down.
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “There are only enough Connections for living Santers. Once a Santer dies, their Connection also goes.”
“I see,” Sona said, lightly rubbing the underside of her chin. “So, that would explain why the queen knows your brother is alive. This Connection wouldn’t exist if he were not. And you said that you can only sense the Connection if the owner has it?”
“Yes.”
Sona leaned back in her chair, still rubbing her chin. “Then your brother and his Connection have been separated since his kidnapping… Not that it matters much to my work. I’ll still find him.”
“How are you going to find him?” Sara asked. During the conversation, she dismissed her earlier judgments of the researcher. She started feeling respect for her.
“First, I’m going to look up every young man between the ages of sixteen through twenty in Aeterna. I know your brother is eighteen now, but it’s good to have a range. Then from there, I’ll narrow the list by eliminating all those who have parents or a record of their lives before they were one.”
“Seems like a lot of work.” Sara grimaced; she did not envy Sona her task.
“Oh, I’ll have helpers,” Sona dismissed with a wave of her hand. “It really should be easy pickings.”
The princess frowned. “If you say so.” She brightened suddenly. She had an idea. “What if you look for someone with his description? I mean, a lot of people say I look a lot like my mother. Shouldn’t my brother have that Santer look about him?”
“It’s possible,” Sona mused, frowning. “But he has been missing for sixteen years. You’d think someone would have recognized him by now.” She scowled. “There’s something we’re missing here but I don’t know what.”
Sara sighed. So much for her brilliant idea. “Do you think we will find him?”
Sona smiled slightly, patting the princess on her sagging shoulders. “We will. It may take some time true, but we will. Everyone leaves a trail, no matter how small. Don’t worry, we’re the best following it.”
*********
That's the end of this week's post. Now, I'm going to throw a question out. How many people are actually reading this? Probably not the right question to ask on April's Fool, but I want to know. So, if those of you reading would contact me in some way, either post a comment here, through Facebook, or even telling me in person, I'd appricate it. I'd also like to know if you're enjoying the story so far, if you just think it's something to do in spare time, or if I should delete the whole thing and be forbidden from writing fiction for the rest of my life. (I hope no one gives me that third option. Cough.) I'd like to know I'm not wasting my time.
If I don't get too many third option feedbacks, next week's post is when they get more questions, without the answers.
